Cranky Mommy

The other night I thought I would do something humorous and silly, so I drew a crude diagram of my husband’s brain.

Anyone who knows my husband will have to decide on it’s accuracy. Notice the large dedication to Art and Religion and Ravens Football. I almost didn’t put baseball in because I think he has given up on the Baltimore Orioles.
Of course then he had to draw a diagram of my brain after that:

Some of it is accurate in my opinion, but some of it isn’t. I really don’t think about who’s gay very much. And I talk on the phone as much as the average woman. But it’s true, I do know a lot of 80’s music lyrics.

I think I have more than my share. In rough chronological order:

1)In 3rd grade, I went miniature golfing and, while chasing a ball that had gone down a hill, fell off an 8 foot wall into a stone-lined pool with a couple feet of water in it, and a fountain. Bruised and soaked, I managed to still place 3rd at the birthday party.

2)Also in 3rd grade, walked into the boys bathroom by mistake at my elementary school. Thankfully didn’t bump into anyone in the bathroom, but got caught by an older kid leaving who gave me a hard time about it. Had no idea what the urinals were for.

3)At some point in early elementary school, as we were leaving a family restaurant with my parents, I noticed two other girls giving me the evil eye and decided to give them the evil eye back, smugly. Until I realized that I had toilet paper hanging out of my pants in the back.

4)At another point in elementary school, one day I was running bathwater for my bath. Realizing that all the clean towels were in the laundry room, my entirely naked self darted out to the laundry room, to get a clean towel… only to realize that the teenage boy living next door and his mother had decided to drop in for a visit.

5)In late elementary school, the girl who had no little brother and who had never babysat a little boy or had seen one naked, asked a carpool full of girls “What are BALLS?” “You don’t know what BALLS are?” they skoffed. And no one would tell me!

6)In junior high, I was elected “most gullible” of my yearbook.

7)As a freshman in high school, I got my tongue stuck in my braces. It took about a half hour to get them unstuck in the nurse’s office.

8)In the mid-nineties I went on a date to Ferry Bar Park (which is on the bay). We were lying on a blanket making out on the beach, until we noticed we were being bitten by hundreds of sand fleas. Bitten all over our bodies, I had over 50 bites on one foot alone. I had an allergic reaction to the bites and swelled up so much that had to go to the doctor to get oral steroids for the bites. (And the guy totally wasn’t worth the bites, that loser).

I can only think of 8 right now (at least that I feel comfortable revealing publicly) but I know there are way more.
So what about you? Any you care to share?

Yesterday, because my primary care didn’t know what to do with me anymore, I dragged myself off to the opthamologist, to deal with what is my fourth bout of conjunctivitis, a.k.a pink eye, in perhaps the last year.
I left with numb eyes, two prescriptions, and a sense of doubt. I guess he knows what he is doing, I think the place I went to is reputable. But the guy looked younger than I am and had a slightly perplexed look on his face when I told him my story. The kind of face that said, I don’t know why you keep getting this, perhaps you are lying when you say you change your bedsheets every two weeks. And I know I shouldn’t let this bother me, but the walls of the waiting room were covered with photos of famous people I don’t care about, getting their eyes worked on, like Kenny G. Ew. (I agree with Pat Metheny, Kenny’s talents are too teeny. But I guess even mediocre musicians need contact lenses).

Anyhow I hope he has my solution, people keep looking at me funny. Although now instead of looking like I am stoned I merely look like I am crying (until this goes away have to find a way to work this to my advantage).

Yesterday I managed to get out for the first time in days. Other than my alley which was a slippery ice slick, the roads were mostly fine.
On my way out to the suburbs, I noticed something I was surprised to see outside of Baltimore. There, right on a major street in suburban Towson, were lawn chairs reserving their respective parking spots. Really, I thought that was the kind of thing they do just in the city. But apparently, the hillbillies, or whomever, have either moved out to the ‘burbs, or learned a thing or two from the city folks.

(Here’s a picture I found of the same kind of thing done in Chicago, although it’s just as popular in Baltimore).
For those of you who are not living in Baltimore, people around here get ballistic if you take “their” curbside parking spot. So, the plastic chairs, lawn chairs or any old chair from the basement, “saves” the parking space.
Never mind the legal ramifications of it, it’s theirs and don’t begin to take it. In our neighborhood, you are taking your life into your hands if you take their parking spot and they will be sure to let you know it! About 10 years ago,we made the mistake of parking in someone’s unmarked “spot”. What was left for us, carefully taped to our front windshield in a nice plastic baggie to keep it from getting wet from the snow, was a little note saying:
Park your van on your own damn alley
Wasn’t that a nice neighborly thing to do.
So for you visiting the Baltimore city area in times of ice and snow, beware the vigilante parking police. Remember a snow-free spot that you have come across is not necessarily yours, so don’t stay long. And by God, you are jeopardizing bodily health if you touch their lawn chair.

Despite my last bitter-sounding post, my Valentine’s day has been pleasant, snowed in with my family. Roses and Chocolate for me, and chocolate and valentines for my two men. Hubby is being absolutely sweet and so it the little man. And I did what I do whenever I am snowed in - I baked. I made a chocolate pie.
T spent the morning holding the valentine I made, and thanking me profusely (gee! it was so easy!) and crawling around with it. Crawling, because last night he somehow hurt/twisted his ankle and hasn’t been walking on it today, and it hurts him to put pressure on it. Poor guy. It has been disconcerting, but it isn’t swollen. The doctor told us to give him ibuprofen and if it isn’t better by tomorrow, then he will be off to an orthopedist. That is, if I can get out of here, due to the ice.
Our goal then tomorrow is to get out of our snowed- and iced-in street alley, in case I need to take him to the doctor.
On another note… I have, what else but pink eye for the 4th time in the last 12 months! So, if you see a woman who looks like she is stoned and crying with a gimpy boy spinning wheels in the snow… you will know it is me.

Update 2/15: Thankfully boy is walking again (sigh of relief) and unfortunately suffering from a wicked case of cabin fever, literally bouncing off the walls.

A little valentine message to all my past loves, past likes, and past whatevers.
To a few of you, if I was a semi-crappy girlfriend, I’m sorry. I really am. There were times when was… (a bit) well, mixed-up. I think what I learned from you has made me a better wife.
To most of you, however, you were semi-crappy boyfriends. Never mind the semi, for some of you. You should be sorry. But, you makes me appreciate my husband.
I hope you are loyal and faithful. I hope you are dedicated and loving. And not superficial. I hope you buy your wive/girlfriend thoughtful, personal gifts.
I hope that you inform your significant others of any diseases you might have, if you have any.*
I hope you communicate what you mean.
Or maybe, I hope you are sitting home, scratching your beer gut (or your bald head), wishing for something to do on Valentines day?
No, that would be bitter. But still, for your girlfriends/wives sakes, I hope you don’t flirt with other women (Or, maybe I hope your wives/girlfriends flirt with… other girls. Ha).

*No I don’t have any diseases, not that kind anyway!

Both my husband and I are artists. Being the individualist he is, he is really isn’t that much into making art, and is much more into playing with construction trucks or reading about dinosaurs or planets or pretending to play football. Occasionally though, he does like to make birthday cards for different people. Here is one he just made for his friend’s birthday:

The funniest thing about this birthday card is that… well, of course he can’t read much, and he’s 4… so he has no idea what Be Mine means or how it is spelled. But in a couple of years, he would be horrified to know he gave a pink card with a sparkly Be Mine sticker to one of his rough and tough male friends.

Hubby: I’m sad.

Me: Why?

Hubby: No more football until next season.

Me: (smiles in happiness at the thought of no more football)

T: I’m sad.

Me: Why?

T: No more football.

Hubby: But there’s always… DVD! Superbowl’s 1 through 10 on DVD! Woo Hoo!

T: Yay!

Me: ARRRRGGGHHHHHH!

I think it is funny how people put “avatars” of themselves on their web pages that don’t look much like the photos that are up on the pages. The avatars usually look much better - thinner, younger, more put together. Avatars don’t have under eye circles, wrinkles, stretch marks, and under-arm flaps (they have plus-size avatars at Yahoo, but they aren’t morbidly obese, just slightly plus).
However, I think I have come up with an accurate resemblance of my current appearance in my Yahoo Avatar. Wanna see? (more…)